Wednesday, August 28, 2013

After three days or so in Luang
Prabang, I was ready to move on. I could have stayed lots longer if I’d had
the time, but time was one thing I was running out of. I had three more days of
“vacation” and knew I needed to start heading back in the direction of Thailand.

The first leg of the trip back was in a very overcrowded bus
from Luang Prabang to
Xayabuli. A bunch of us sat on plastic chairs in the aisle with only open
windows and fans for air cooling. Everyone – whether in real seats or plastic –
took it in stride and so did I. The
scenery made up for the cramped quarters.

I was not impressed with Xayabuli (also spelled
Xayaburi, Xaignabouli, Xaignabouri, Sayabouri and Sainyabuli) when I
first visited there in October 2012. But, I think my first impressions were
tainted by coming in on the very day that electricity was out, citywide, and
being run off by begging street urchins down by the riverside. This time I
didn’t have either problem, plus I was based at a guesthouse closer to the
riverside, where I wanted to be. I had a very pleasant late afternoon/early
evening there, eating and drinking at an outdoor vendor’s table.

Luang Prabang between the years 1354–1707 A.D. was the
center of the Kingdom of Lan
Xang, the first real unification of Lao as a country by Fa Ngum. At the time of its
founding, the town/city was still known as Xieng
Dong-Xieng Thong. The center of the kingdom was renamed after the famous
Buddha Phrabang image.

After the splitting apart of the Kingdom
of Lan Xang, Luang Prabang continued
as the cultural and religious center of the Kingdom of Luang Phrabang
(1707–1949)
until the founding of the Kingdom
of Laos following World War II.

Monday, August 19, 2013

My second full day in Luang Phrabang was
similar to the first. I walked the OldTown and as far as was
leisurely; no hiking. I walked each and every street, side street and pathway,
talking with locals whenever I could.

I ate off the street – that is, I bought food from street
vendors, staying away from restaurants that were three times as expensive. I did
continue to visit Mekong side restaurants in
the period between lunch and dinner, when they were generally empty or
near-empty. The timing was good for great views of the great river, a beer or two, and usually some conversation
with a waiter or waitress off from school for the summer.

Although tempted to buy stuff, I was content to just walk
the night market again, seeing if I missed anything the night before:

Friday, August 16, 2013

At first, I was unsure how long my time in Luang
Prabang would be. I’d promised my wife that I wouldn’t be gone more than
eight or nine days, so I had a cap to the overall trip I was duty-bound to
respect, but what happened and where I was within that time frame was up to me.

My first full day in this World Heritage Site was spent
walking around the city’s central historic section. I would have visited
temples and temple grounds along the way, but they typically charged about 20,000
Kip to visit and there are at least twenty temples in the area, if not more –
certainly a half dozen very famous ones.

I decided to save my money for beer and food (one expensive
Beer Lao at a restaurant was the same price as on the slowboat: 10,000 Kip).
The price of a typical temple visit would get me two 1.25 liter bottles of Beer Lao at a riverside restaurant, which was
more of a value to me. Anyway, I could view all sorts of pictures and videos of
the same temples, shot by others, uploaded onto the Internet.

I can hear you already thinking: “This guy travels all that
way and doesn’t see some of the most famous sites?!” Well, I was really
determined to keep this trip as cheap as I could get it and I’m pretty sure
I’ll be back. I can save that tourist track stuff for another time.

It quickly became apparent to me that the city was totally
geared to foreign tourists. As one waiter at a riverside restaurant mentioned
to me, when we were having conversation where he was practicing his English,
many of the locals call Luang Prabang “FalangCity.”
As testimony to this, guesthouses nearly outnumber private residences.

So, the opportunities to spend baht or kip or even dollars were
everywhere. The challenge, really – if you wanted to be a “Cheap
Charlie” like me – was to not be tempted to by anything you did not
absolutely need or think “perfect” for another (like the silk scarf I got for
Thip at the night market: perfect!).

After walking around the night market, I splurged on myself
a little bit by buying a mini-pizza at a restaurant that specialized in them.
There, I met Joe, a retired British world traveler. He came to my table facing
the street and asked if I minded if he sat with me. About my age, he’s a solo
traveler like me, but has seen lots more of it than I. Remember when I was
bragging about being 64 and traveling on my own in Lao? Well, Joe puts my solo
travels to shame.

I should have gotten contact info from him, but I didn’t,
figuring we’d run into each other sometime during the subsequent days. Meeting
people while you’re travelling is like that. One moment they are there, another
moment gone. Thanks for some great conversation that night, Joe!

This would be the last time I’d eat at a restaurant the rest
of the trip.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Still don’t know the name of the Pak Beng guesthouse where I
stayed overnight, but it appeared to be furthest up the hill and while a bit
pricier than the other options most of the backpackers
availed themselves of, I liked it cuz it was clean and quiet and fit all my
needs, including dinner shortly upon arrival (after ab nam),
beer following (while I wrote journal notes) and breakfast the next morning.

I think, though, when I come thru again, I’ll stay two
nights at some place cheaper and explore the town a little. I did none of that,
this go round.

Back on the boat (reminds me of Ken Kesey’s line: “You’re
either on the bus or
off the bus”), I had a seat this second and last day travelling down the Mekong river between Pak Beng and Luang Phrabang.

Here's som video shot by Philip Elmer-DeWitt in late 2012 or early 2013,
showing many slowboat scenes that I think represent the typical slowboat trip very well: http://youtu.be/IQwydfdjcc8

The kids I hung out with on the boat were actually fun to be
around and I didn’t have any discomfort being around a lot of Westerners in a
foreign country, as I normally would, since I’m more of the “hang out with the locals” kinda guy.

The scenery continued to be spectacular and the beer still
flowed freely (over-priced, of course). At one point, when the boat’s supply
got low, we put in at a village along the river bank and the crew brought
several more distinctive-yellow plastic cases of Beer
Lao aboard. This averted what would have been – if not a riot – a big
bummer for many of us.

We made Luang
Phrabang at the end of the day and all 70 of us went our separate ways. In
subsequent days, we would see each other on the streets of the city and would
wave and otherwise acknowledge ourselves, but none of the Falang hailed me over to join
them – like most Lao and Thai people do – so, I stayed politely aloof.

After our arrival, I got set-up at a guesthouse in the
center of the old town. First order of business was an ab nam. Then I went
to a Mekong River edge restaurant after having the good forward sense to dose myself
with mosquito repellant (DEET
an essential ingredient), and had dinner followed by some Beer Lao’s.

Friday, August 9, 2013

It was actually good that I didn’t have a seat the first day
on The Khong. An attractive
English girl – Anglo-Saxon,
with a fair amount of Scandinavian
in her blood (blond!) – struck up a conversation that lasted most of the day.
While she invited me to the second seat she was using to store some of her
gear, I was content to just hover around her. She was good company.

I tried to make sense out of the scenery we motored through.
Everywhere where there had been substantial clear cutting, Khon Lao were growing
something; mostly corn, which amazed me cuz those mountainsides were steep!

Some guys on the boat grew weary of the overpriced beer and
started to demand land prices. I guess if I was their age, I would have been
right in there with them. Now, at age 64, it just seemed bad form and I knew
I’d never create a scene like that if I had a woman in-tow, no matter what my
age.

I did not shoot any photographs or video on this trip, but am posting pictures and video from others that are representative. I guess I got lazy, but the fill-in's are really good and the media is always credited with a link to the original.

Monday, August 5, 2013

The two-day slowboat
from Huay Xai (pronounced “Hok
Say”) to Pak Beng and then
to Luang Prabang,
along the Nam Khong (Mekong
river) had to have been the highlight of this trip, although other moments of
less duration would rival it for top honors.

Of the 70 or so passengers, the boat was almost entirely Falang, except for the crew, the
bar keeps and a Japanese guy. The main groups of Caucasians were the Italians
and the British, but other sizeable groups included Canadians and Americans
from the U.S.

The scenery was stunning. So many untouched as well as
deforested mountains down a river whose color reminded me of milk chocolate or
café au’lait.

One of the great things about the ride was you didn’t need
to go anywhere to see vast tracts of land and river. The scenery was constantly
changing and “the movie” went on for hours, along with sensory inputs like
smell and touch and interaction with fellow “viewers.”

Staying in your seat – if you had one, which I didn’t that
first day; just like on buses, there are always some people who took up two
seats instead of one; never could figure that out. Were they just so dense or
did they just figure their ticket for one entitled them to two? Anyway, staying
in your seat all the time would have been boring, no matter how great the
limestone karsts. So, most everyone moved around the boat occasionally, as much
as space would allow.

The engine room was deafening, but interesting and you
usually had it all to yourself, with the same great scenery moving past you.
Back of the engine room, towards the stern, there was always a party going on
and hard alcohol (40-proof) the major drink, along with the boat’s overpriced Beer Lao (5% alcohol) that was
copiously drunk throughout the boat.

Towards the bow, at the front end of the boat, the captain
sat, along with one or two of his friends. It was a nice perspective from here
cuz you could really get a good idea of how the boats navigate the river.

The vast majority of the seating was between the bow and the
engine room. At the rear of the seating area was a small bar serviced by one or
two Khon Lao, usually
with children. In back of the bar, before the engine room, was the lavatory.
Some boats have two.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

I kept on the move in the hopes I could still make the slow
boat down the Mekong before
it departed around 11am.

Unfortunately, I crossed “The Khong” at the same time as two
good-sized groups of Italian and English college-aged kids, so the visa process
bogged down once we got on the other side of the river, on the Lao side in Huay Xai (pronounced “Hok-Say”).
Luckily, however, I was one of the last five people to secure a seat on that
day’s slowboat.

It almost looked like it wasn’t going to happen, though, as
the last group of slowboaters were some Italian kids who didn’t have money in
hand and had to hit the town’s Automatic Teller Machine. Even worse, their
Mastercards didn’t work at that ATM, so the slowboat taxi driver had to run us
over on the other side of the river to the town bank where – thank Buddha – they were
successful in withdrawing kip.
I kept my cool throughout, although it really did try my patience as I was sure
I was going to miss the boat – literally. I could see the tuk-tuk
taxi driver on the cell phone with guys at the boat, so it was actually not as
stressful as it might have been. My coolness under pressure somewhat endeared
me to the Italians and we were good friends throughout the two-day ride.

One of the slowboat ticket girls – who may have been married
to the tuk-tuk driver or the daughter of the guesthouse owner – was absolutely
gorgeous in a modest way – quite petite, dressed in Lao sim
– and couldn’t have been much older than 22. When her father or father-in-law
saw her talking with me, in Lao, for longer than deemed necessary, he whisked
her away – in a jolly way – to a desk in front of the Bap
Guesthouse. The family probably ran both the slowboat ticketing business
and the guesthouse.

A NOTE about pictures: I did not shoot any photographs or video on this trip, but am posting pictures and video from others that are representative. I guess I got lazy, but the fill-in's are really good and the media is always credited with a link to the original.